Follow Me Back (Fight for Me 2)

Dread coiled and twined. A downward spiral.

God.

What was I going to do?

“Hey. This doesn’t change anything. You don’t let him beat you down or scare you, because that’s what he wants. You and Evan are gonna keep moving forward. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nodded minutely, the tweak of my lips thankful. So grateful for my friend who’d stepped up, my rock when I’d needed to be Evan’s.

She brushed back the hair matted to my face. “Okay, then. It’s settled. No more tears. What do you say we go pick up Evan the Great? I’m taking you both to dinner. My treat.”

Sniffling, I nodded again. “Okay.”

13

Kale

Willpower was a tricky bitch.

Out of the gate, you felt strong in your resolution. Confident. Insolent, even.

You could so absolutely do this.

No question.

It was in the bag.

Easy-peasy.

Whether you had committed to quitting smoking or cutting your calories in half or giving up the bottle, that first moment you made that promise to yourself?

You were almost on a high. On top of the world. A champion.

Your only focus was why you should do it and why it would benefit you and the people around you.

No thought given to how hard it was actually going to be.

You hadn’t considered that when you woke up in the morning, it’d be the first thing on your mind or that it’d track you through the day. No deliberation of the niggling sensation at the back of your brain, constantly whispering that you were missing something.

And you definitely hadn’t given thought to the reality that when you tried to go to sleep at night, it’d be the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes.

But I did it.

I drove past that little shop every damned day for nearly two weeks and barely gave it a glance. And by the time I passed by it in the evening, I’d gun the accelerator, flying right on by, jaw rigid and teeth clenched, refusing to look that way.

Not allowing myself to wonder if she was still behind the doors. If she was smiling. If Evan was with her.

When I crawled in bed at night, I pretended she wasn’t the only thing I could see. Pretended I didn’t wonder if she was wet and thinking of me.

It was for the best.

It was stupid to even want her, anyway. It wasn’t like I was going to make something with her and that kid. A life like they deserved.

If I could even if I wanted to.

Just being around them had dredged up too many memories. Made me remember, and remembering fucking hurt. Gut told me if I got any deeper into Hope, any deeper into Evan, it just might ruin me.

So, I shoved that little obsession aside, buried it with the flickers of worry that kept flaring up when I thought of her shit-pile of a soon-to-be ex-husband, who was probably still giving her a hard time.

Restrained myself from looking him up so I could pay him a little visit.

None of my concern.

Right?

Right.

And then . . .

Then there was this little girl.

Five years old.

Tiffany.

Fucking adorable, black curly hair that was all kinds of wild around her chubby face.

She’d returned for her second visit with me, being worked up for intermittent high fevers that we couldn’t pin down the cause of.

The whole time, she’d been completely cooperative, smiling, following my requests.

In hindsight, maybe she’d been a little too cooperative.

Because the second we’d finished, she’d looked up at me with wide, hopeful eyes and told me she’d been a good girl during her examination and she wanted to know where her lollipop was.

Of course, she did.

With my mouth flopping all over the place, I’d finally managed to tell her I’d run out.

You’d think I had single-handedly taken down the entire Disney franchise.

That’d been my breaking point.

At least I was blaming it on that.

I scrubbed a hand over my face and looked to the Alabama sky, so blue with the day. “You’re an idiot,” I mumbled beneath my breath before I spun on my heel and moved the rest of the way down the sidewalk.

I didn’t hesitate at the door. I pulled it open and stepped inside.

Hoping I was making the right choice.

But I had no idea what else to do.

The bell chimed above when I stepped into the small shop. The second she saw me, Jenna grinned like she’d won the lottery.

But she wasn’t who held my attention.

It was Hope whose mossy gaze snapped up to meet mine when she felt my presence, those full lips parting in surprise.

Hope.

Fucking Hope.

The air got thick, and I felt a little dizzy while I was standing there just inside the doorway, looking at this girl who had to be the best thing I’d ever seen.

Red hair twisted into a loose braid and pulled over one shoulder, pieces falling out everywhere, those eyes so damned green. And she was wearing this floral dress that did funny things to me, twisting me up in knots of need.